


Fragile

by memelessness



Series: Good Omens Short Stories [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memelessness/pseuds/memelessness
Summary: Humans were fragile. It was something both angel and demon could agree upon.





	Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> A quick drabble to flesh out an idea.

Humans were fragile. It was something both angel and demon could agree upon.

Sometimes Crowley would be witness to alley muggings, stabbings, hit-and-runs (rarely prompted by him, anymore). Sometimes a woman would wait outside a bar, sobbing into her brand-new dress after her date stood her up. He saw most everything, from pettiness to suicide. 6000 years, and all he saw was the misery they’d bring upon each other.

And though Aziraphale tried his damndest (or rather his holiedness) to see the joy of humanity, he could still feel their agony. He noticed a young child (he was 19, but they all looked young to the angel) happily looking into his book shop before being torn down for ‘being a nerd.’ He witnessed a smaller girl entering his shop, dressed head-to-toe in heavy clothing (it was the middle of summer) who tucked herself into a corner and read his books with gentle care. It made his chest ache. But nothing had hurt him more than the lady that came in for a job in quiet desperation.

She’d been 18 years old, smiling wide yet seeping in misery. He wasn’t hiring. Maybe he should’ve left a sign? He did his best to politely turn her down, watching defeat glaze over her eyes… but she still smiled. He’d seen her again later as they’d passed a bar.

“How is it that humans are so-“

“Fragile?” Crowley interrupted the angel, glancing over to the bar, “Everyone in there’s sad. ‘S not anything new.”

The angel’s shoulders slumped at the thought as he continued to walk, arm interlocked with his demon’s. Was fragile the word he was looking for? There was another word that fit better. It was just on the tip of his tongue.

He looked up as two toddlers held bags of homemade cookies to their faces, mother smiling just a couple feet away. He saw a couple dancing animatedly to jazz, hands clinging desperately to each other. He chuckled quietly when the child before him gave him a hug, returning to their mother to gather more cookies to give to more people.

Humans weren’t fragile. They were

“Strong.” He spoke affirmatively, leaning into the other with a beaming grin, “Throughout their whole lives, they’re faced with adversity, yet… here they are.” He motioned vaguely.

“Angel, they kill themselves. They kill each other. All the time, actually.” Crowley didn’t know where this new proclamation was going, biting into a tiny, chocolate cookie.

“Y-yes well…” Aziraphale dug into the knotted bag, taking great care with a pink ribbon, “It is quite… unfortunate.” That had been an understatement, “B-but look at them! Humanity still exists after 6,000 years!” He motioned to the ecstatic and the sorrowful. The delighted and the resolved. All with a sugary wafer between his fingers, “They’re… still here.”  
The demon conceded, unadmittedly enjoying the other’s excitement. He watched a couple, one woman kneeled before another (who in turn nearly squealed in joy). He looked over to a man who treated a homeless lady to a good meal. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Crowley spoke hesitantly, pulling his angel closer.

Humans were in fact fragile, that was indisputable… but humanity was strong. Maybe beyond strong! It was something both angel and demon could agree upon.


End file.
